


His Non-Native Tongue

by spacemutineer



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes (2009)
Genre: Ficlet, M/M, PWP, Prompt Fic, Smutlet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-24
Updated: 2011-03-24
Packaged: 2017-10-17 06:09:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/173754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacemutineer/pseuds/spacemutineer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Watson tries to memorize the words, any of them, as Holmes' fingers trace ornate curves and lines into the sweat on his back.</p><p>
  <i>“Je ne peux pas imaginer cette vie sans vous.”</i>
</p><p>Written for a <a href="http://community.livejournal.com/shkinkmeme/8789.html?thread=17869141#t17869141">prompt on shkinkmeme</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	His Non-Native Tongue

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't resist this lovely prompt despite my unfortunate lack of French skills. Hopefully it won't be too mangled.

Watson tries to memorize the words, any of them, as Holmes' fingers trace ornate curves and lines into the sweat on his back.

_“Je ne peux pas imaginer cette vie sans vous.”_

The words are whispered behind him, breathy and slow, while Holmes eases his length inside. Watson's eyes close tightly in concentration to gather as much of the phrases as possible for later study and translation, but the effort is lost in the crashing wave of sensation as Holmes begins to move.

_“Les creux de mon cœur sont remplis de ta beauté irrésistible.”_

Watson gathers little of these sentences save the first person pronouns and the intonation of obvious weight behind them. Instead he is lost fully in the presence of the man behind him at the moment, cast adrift as a clever hand snakes its way around his hip to grip him hard and begin stroking expertly. Hot breath and French vocabulary fall fast and wet onto the back of his neck.

_“La sensation de vous autour de moi est un avant-goût alléchant de paradis.”_

Holmes' free hand grasps at Watson's hair, fingers tangling and pulling wildly, then slides down to attach to Watson's good shoulder with force. His body spasms, pressing his chest down onto Watson's back and causing his hand around Watson's cock to clench tightly. As Watson passes toward his peak as well from this exquisite touch, Holmes leans in to whisper softly in his ear.

_“Je suis un homme meilleur pour vous connaître, ma bonne mère poule, mon merveilleux médecin, mon amour magnifique.”_

Watson's last coherent thought is, "Did he just say..." before the world explodes into stars and sunbursts, delicious overwhelming shivers that course through every inch of his body. Holmes curls himself around the doctor, enveloping him completely in the feeling of bare skin and nimble fingers.

A few moments later and Watson’s breathing eases back from jagged gasps into a more natural rhythm. Holmes pulls his face towards him to slip his tongue into Watson's mouth greedily. Watson murmurs and greets it eagerly with his own. Finally, this is French he can understand.

\-----------------

\- “I cannot imagine this life without you.”  
\- “The hollows of my heart are filled with your irresistible beauty.”  
\- “The sensation of you surrounding me is a tantalizing foretaste of paradise.”  
\- “I am a better man for knowing you, my good mother hen, my wonderful doctor, my magnificent love.”


End file.
